The Killing Moon
by AidenB
Summary: When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries of life disappear and life stands explained. [Mark Twain] What if Donnie was the one predicting the end of the world as he knew it? L&O:CI and Donnie Darko crossover.Chapter 7 up!
1. Under Blue Moon

**A/N: Donnie Darko and Law and Order: Criminal Intent crossover. I know what you're thinking but TRUST me. It works. Please do R and R.**

**Oh and yes I know this was originally supposed to be a CSI crossover and it may still end up that way, but right now it's Law and Order: CI.**

_Wake up_

Donnie blinked. One. Two…

_They're coming_

Three…four…. He kept counting. If he stopped it would speak again. Five… six…

_They'll find out about EVERYTHING.._

He squeezed his eyes shut with ferocity. Clenching his fists into hard balls so that his knuckles gleamed white. No matter what, he would not open his eyes. He became catatonic. Rocking back and forth. Back and forth. Counting. Seven…eight…. nine…

_You know it's true._

Ten…. eleven…. twelve…thirteen…. Donnie screamed into the darkness and then found himself not in the comfort of his bed but in a lustrous green field that stretched impossibly far. He knew from experience that it would have no end only beginnings of nightmares and horrors. The sky above was an inky black. A moon with all the clarity of an ocean shone above.

_I can take you away. _

Fourteen…fifteen. "Fuck off!" he growled at his unseen censer. But no one answered. He began to walk, digging his heels into the lumpy earth beneath him. Alarmingly the once still earth grew began to rise and sink like waves before his horrified brown eyes. Donnie's heart began to tremble in fear yet he kept walking and counting.

_It'll never stop. Not unless you stop them._

Donnie's counting grew frantic and hysterical as he strode on in terror. His dark hair almost as dark as the night that swirled around him; clung to his suddenly sallow face as he broke into a run. Still counting. Still counting. The seconds turned to days almost as fast as he could blink with each heartbeat the seasons changed. Morbid shapes winded around him but he kept running and he kept counting.

_I'm watching you._

Ninety-nine. One hundred.

He woke up. The pulsating grass was gone. He was under his sheets and sweating like crazy. Donnie Darko glanced at his watch. He'd only been asleep for five minutes. With a heavy sigh he laid his head back down onto his thick pillow and let sleep overcome him. This time there was no voice only….

One…

two…

three…

and then he slept on. This time no dreams. No voices. No terror.


	2. Bad Blood

**October 29 2004**

Every day was a living nightmare. Every day was an endless struggle for truth. It became a true physical exertion for Donnie to try and keep his hopes up. It was coming. No matter how many times he tried to latch onto sanity he would slip further under a darkness that threatened to overwhelm him. Gretchen's eyes searched his for answers but how was he to tell her that only a day separated him from his death?

"_Frank is going to kill." _

Donnie's voice grew childlike with mortified fear. In his subconscious state he stumbled restlessly around the therapists' room staring in horror at what she could not see, clutching at a teddy bear suddenly reverted to this child like state.

"Who is he going to kill? Who is he going to kill Donnie? questioned Dr. Thurman.

She reached for him in a bid for comfort but he wriggled free and gawked at the room in unimaginable terror.

"I can see him right now!" he screamed suddenly.

Dr. Thurman grew desperate and even she found herself searching for this mystery creature of doom that Donnie had described as Frank. A six-foot tall bunny rabbit.

In Donnie's mind a flash of the sky burst into the room speeding up and shooting across his features. Frank's disembodied head laughing.

Donnie returned to the room, still in a trance brought on by Dr. Thurman's hypnotherapy. His voice became soft and heart wrenchingly saddened.

"The sky is going to open up." He muttered.

Unwittingly Dr. Thurman gave Donnie a significant glimpse at the question he had been searching for; as she murmured some words in comfort.

"If the sky were to suddenly open up there would be no law. There would be no rule. There would only be you and your memories… the choices you've made, and the people you've touched. If this world were to end there would only be you and him and no-one else."

Donnie began to sob pitifully and clung onto the therapist again like a child. Awkwardly she clapped her hands together and he was brought with a might jolt out of his spell. He blinked in confusion and looked at her face, deeply lined with concern.

_What did I say?_

* * *

The party raged on. A deluge of teenagers filled the Darko residence. Elizabeth tried to appear irritated at the unprecedented number of guests most uninvited but then as the Halloween party got into full swing she forgot about telling off Donnie for pretending the party would be a small intimate gathering in celebration of her acceptation to Harvard University; and joined the masses. Music pumped loudly around the house and a bevy of teenagers in novelty costumes danced and drank. They laughed, talked and cheered.

Donnie counted the hours to the swiftly approaching end.

The end of his life.

The end of the world.

He pulled on the hood to his top and answered the buzzing door. Gretchen greeted him with platitudes and then looked at him seriously. He could see her pain and she could almost feel his. He took her hand and he led her up the stairs.

Her mother had left her. Again. Gretchen's eyes streamed with dry tears. Her expression blank. Donnie tried to offer condolences and she greatly appreciated them but she knew the truth. She could feel it coursing through her like a metal bullet, crushing her thoughts and she wondered continuously what this truth was but she couldn't understand. Couldn't think of what it all meant. She just knew that it meant something ominous.

"I'm just so scared. I keep thinking something awful is happening, and… it's my fucking step dad, I know it… I guess some people are just born with tragedy in their blood." She sobbed. Donnie held her in his arms. He knew the truth. For once he wished it didn't have to be him. He didn't want to die.

Elizabeth chewed thoughtfully on her lip. Her friend was missing. But in the accumulation of fellow partygoers it was unlikely she would find him anytime soon. She glanced at her friend.

"Hey have you guys seen Frank?" she half shouted over the wall of noise.

Her friend shrugged then nodded. "No, I think they said they were going on a beer run."

Elizabeth whose only concern at the moment was that her friend would bring more alcohol to the party and intoxicate even more people who were extremely liable to trash her house; cursed.

"Shit"

Donnie cried inward silent tears as he made love to Gretchen.

The clock inched closer to midnight. The end was nigh.

* * *

**A/N: I know these are short but I really want to take my time. Build up tension. Thank you for my first review for Killing Moon by Punk Up The Volume. I hope you continue to enjoy it. And yes I will update.**

**Oh and you really would have had to have watched Donnie Darko to understand this because I use bits and pieces and…. it's complicated.**

**I will also involve flashbacks…. but anyways…. you'll work that out yourselves. **

**Enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing I have used so far is mine. Donnie Darko/CSI is not my creation and if you were to check my wallet you would see how true that was.**


	3. Tangent Universe

**Summary: What would happen if Donnie _hadn't _died? When he is sent to an institution in New York and bizarrely finds himself in the present day. Can New York's finest uncover the mystery of Donnie Darko before it's too late for one of their own?**

**A/N: Long time since I worked on this. I didn't think anyone would review but I'm grateful for the reviews all the same. I hope you continue to enjoy it. I've revamped it a little bit and don't worry I know where I'm going with this.**

**Disclaimer: On my user page people.**

* * *

**October 25th 1988**

Only a week earlier, that monstrous creature he called Frank had visited Donnie in an empty theatre. Gretchen slept by his side, angelic and innocent to the nightmare that was his sanity.

"Why are you wearing that stupid bunny suit?" he asked with the condescending trace of a sneer. He'd figured a little while ago he wasn't actually envisioning a demonic 6ft tall creature but instead a human.

Frank's response was as quizzical as ever "Why are you wearing that stupid man suit"

Donnie was silent as Frank took off his mask and revealed a gouged out eye. It sickened Donnie but he was more concerned with the sudden more human Frank. He was young, a little older than Donnie and he was crying. "What happened to your eye?"

Frank merely cried a little more, his tears sparkled in the darkness "I'm so sorry"

That was when the fear began. That was when Donnie could taste his own blood, metallic and thick on his tongue. Something was happening.

He tried to ask when it was all going to end but Frank was evasive. The way he spoke it was as if Donnie himself held all the answers.

"Burn it to the ground"

His next assignment, he carried it out so well. The flames swirled and danced beautifully and the smoke didn't even bother him. It was as if he was in a trance. If indeed he perhaps was some sort of super hero then he doubted he was the kind children would like up to. Right now he was nothing better than a twisted arsonist, but later he would come to find out that there was in fact a method to his madness. Whether he liked what the solution was or not, was a different matter.

* * *

**October 30 1988**

None of that mattered now. She was dead. Her face was still flushed with colour but that would go soon. Where would he go from here though? He'd just shot a man. He'd found himself at the epicentre of the confusing past few days. It was all down to him. Question is, was he up to the challenge?

When he got him he kissed his sister's forehead, she stirred faintly and he sighed reaching for the keys. There was no point in being coy about it. He was going to die.

As he walked to his car, suddenly he clutched his stomach, a cloud formation blossomed above his head. He got back into the car and stared at Gretchen's body, she was so beautiful, lying there so still. He was going to make things better for her. He promised. If it meant her not even having knowing him he was fine with that. Just as long as she got to live.  
Now he had to go and make things right.

* * *

_"What if you could go back in time and take all those hours of pain and darkness and replace them with something better?"_

_-Gretchen_

_Dear Roberta Sparrow,  
I've reached you in your book, and there's so many things I need to ask you. Sometimes I'm afraid of what you might tell me. Sometimes I'm afraid that you'll tell me that this is not a work of fiction. I can only hope that the answers will come to me in my sleep. I hope that when the world comes to an end I can breathe a sigh of relief, because there will be so much to look forward to._

_-Donnie_

* * *

The air from his lungs came out strong and relieved. It was finally time. He lay in his bed, he'd even taken the trouble of putting on his pyjamas. He lay there for quite some time laughing hysterically, though if you were to ask what was so funny. He probably wouldn't have been able to say what. In his head however he was counting. His time was only minutes away. 

_One_

_Two_

Downstairs Donnie's father sat asleep in front of the television set. The grainy screen illuminated the otherwise dark room and it's inhabitant.

_Three_

_Four_

_Five_

Elizabeth Darko leant against the doorway, laughing to herself. Breathing a sigh of relief.

_Six_

_Seven_

_Eight_

_Nine_

_Ten_

Donnie blinked.

* * *

**October 2 1988**

Nothing. He was still inhis sameold bed. Still in his pyjamas.No jet engine, no swirling portals, no life altering situations. It hadn't worked. Sunlight stroked his face and he stared in confusion. Either he had miscalculated, or Frank had, he was in yet another alternate universe or maybe he really was just truly insane. It didn't matter yet at that moment. What was the most troubling was that he wasn't dead, what would this mean for everyone else?


	4. Manipulated Living

**Disclaimer: It's on my user page.**

**Warning: Bad language, graphic storylines, angst, drama, surrealness...you know me.**

**A/N: By the way the chapter titles come from the Donnie Darko album (which sadly Iown. I know, I'mlame)and some of the song lyrics. So, just giving credit where it's due. Thanks to past reviews, I'm sorry I'm slow at posting butI really want to make this work to the standard of the film.**

* * *

_"Wake up"_

Donnie's wide, frightened eyes, met the dull brown ones of a sober looking nurse with murky blonde hair in a severe French braid.  
He got up slowly, trembling and looked around. His room was gone, and in it's place was the stark inimitable white of hospital halls. With confusion growing in him at the speed of a runaway train he walked slowly across the floors, cool on his bare feet and stared out at of the strong square of glass at the door of his strange new room and held his breath.

He really wasn't dead.

The question was, where was he now? Donnie began to bang his fists against the door and rattle the door handle in terror and rising panic.

The nurse opened the door and met him with a patient but emotionless smile, in her hand rattled a small plastic container of meds.

"Good morning Donnie. Did you sleep well?" she asked, not expecting him to answer. In the two years he'd been at the Binghamton Psychiatric Centre, Donald Darko had never once spoken. This was some feat considering the abuse the other patients would hurl at him, obviously intimidated by the ease with which he alienated himself.

"Where am I?"

She stared back, stunned, her mouth making a wide _O_. "You're talking?"

Donnie grabbed the woman by the shoulders and shook her "Where am I!" he shouted

The nurse stammered "You're at the-the Binghamton Psychiatric Centre in New York"

Donnie gaped at her and let his hands fall to his sides. His world spun and swam in his head and a million questions gnawed like mosquitoes under his flesh. Somewhere in the back of his head he had the idea to ask her what year it was. Her response both terrified and confused him.

"It's 2005, Donald. The 21st century. You-you know that?" she smiled her emotionless smile, still unnerved by this sudden activity from a boy who never spoke, but years of training had made her able to hide her surprise

Donnie didn't say anything, he merely shoved past her and began to run. He ignored the encouraging whoops and cheers from other patients and the yelling of then nurse he'd knocked over, his only concern was getting out. He needed answers and he needed them fast.

Orderlies ran after him, forming one snaking line of people dressed in white, shouting voices that called after Donnie, he didn't know how he managed to do it but he found a way out, somewhere through the basement. That dark dingy area, filled with old patient files in dusty grey metal storage lockers had lead him to a back exit and suddenly without even realising it. He was outside. The sun was overwhelming and it made him squint. Shaking, terrified and confused Donnie clambered over the back fence of the institute. He was free. As he ran he realised that along with him had come Frank, for how else had Donnie, a seventeen year old boy managed to escape such a place as Binghamton.

Trying to find his way to a train station was more complicated than Donnie had first assumed, and he guessed correctly that his journey would only grow more perplexing from there on out. He knew that there was something he had to do, somewhere he had to be. The feeling was strong in him, and yet, he couldn't understand why it was he felt that way. At that moment he didn't particularly care, he just wanted to get on a train, go home, see his family. It wasn't fair that he should have to shoulder the burden that he had been given, he just wanted to be young again. To be with Gretchen.

Feet dirty with all matter of grime, somehow again, Donnie managed to find the subway. With the unseen help of Frank, Donnie had been able to board the subway without suspicion. Despite how conscious Donnie was of his clothing and dishevelled appearance, no one else seemed to care or want to notice Donnie. After all it was New York. He felt himself, unwillingly, sinking into a trance, his eyes glassed over and a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He saw a familiar face.

"You have to find him"

Donnie blinked awake, it was Frank.

"Who, where am I, what is going on? I need to find my family, why is this happening?" he babbled

Frank stared at him from wide luminous orbs. "Why do you ask so many questions when you already know the answers"

"I don't know!" snapped Donnie his voice curdled with frustration, his hair sticking out in clumps he raked his hand through it with exasperation

"It will happen. It was wrong the first time but it will be right the next. You _must_ find him" there was an urgency in Frank's voice that Donnie had never noticed before

"What was wrong? I thought the world would end that day and it didn't! Why am I still alive!"

"There are things people will not understand. Only you know the truth"

Frank was as ever, impossibly cryptic. Donnie had so much he wanted to ask him but he could already feel himself slipping out of Frank's reach.

"Bull-_fucking_-shit! Why…" the boy let out a world weary gasp of air "Why me?"

Frank shook his head slowly "There is only you who can answer that question"

Donnie scowled with disgust "That's fucking shit! This is…this is ridiculous! What am I supposed to know, you can't keep screwing me around like this…it's not fair"

It was too late to get angry, Frank was disappearing, melting and dripping, slowly coming apart till only his large luminous eyes were left, seemingly willing Donnie to know the answers to this strange new interruption to his previous message.

Donnie snapped awake. It appeared that he had reached his destination, yet again as would happen whenever he met Frank, Donnie had found himself in an unfamiliar place and he had no recollection of how he had got there. To confound things further, day had just begun to break and Donnie was now even further from his home. Further than he knew. But yet again, he had a sensation that it was necessary for him to be where ever he was now. He looked up at the warm orange sky and stared around his surroundings. He was on soft, freshly shorn grass in wide open space, littered with lean round headed trees and a smattering of joggers. He was in Central Park.  
Sighing, Donnie stood to his feet. If he wanted answers, this appeared to be the place to do it. Shutting his tired eyes momentarily, he began to walk, as if in a trance, towards a bridge. There, his fate awaited him.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not entirely comfortable with this chapter...but I re-vamped, re-did, re-styled and re-did it and this is the best I could come up with. Let me know what you think!**


	5. Desperation Takes Hold

**Author's Note:** _Dybdahl/ pixstar036/Gaze/Mousewolf/tropical fruity goodness/Destiny's Dragon/hotpants333/YoukaiGirl13/Scary Vampiress/Helen Pattskyn _THANK YOU ALL for the reviews. And the past reviewers of course. I know that this has now officially taken about two years...(sheepish) but its getting there...and since the Donnie Darko section isn't visited often I can take my time...but I promise it won't be another year before I finish this. Thanks for the support reviewers and non-reviewers. I hope my little fic is true to the film and also original enough in its own right.

The title '_desperation takes hold'_is a line from the classic Joy Division track 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' which as you may or not know is a song straight from Donnie Darko (Elizabeth's party).

* * *

The body was pale and eerie half hidden underneath that bed of leaves and green. The man was another homeless man, one of many that inhabited Central Park. Unfortunately he also now joined the list of many other transients that had been stabbed in some random unmotivated killing.

Or so it seemed.

Donnie knew he was supposed to find him. A feeling of déjà vu had overcome him, the moment he'd tripped over the misshapen lump in the ground to the moment when he had pushed past the pile of leaves obscuring the body; Donnie had known that there was something that had called him there. Not that he knew what that 'something' was.

Suddenly there was a sharp light from the sky and he thought he was seeing another portal into the so called Tangent Universe, but the light in his eyes cleared and he saw the puzzled expression of one Robert Goren.

Tall and statuesque, Bobby was not much taller than Donnie but he had a presence, a power that made him seem taller, more intimidating. Even though his boyish face when relaxed, suggested otherwise.

"Put your hands up!" he shouted, firm and commanding

Donnie gaped open mouthed as he stared into the nose of a gun, his eyes wandered to the body beside him.

Instantly he knew why the gun was being aimed at him. To Bobby; who never made rash judgements no matter what the situation, Donnie was a suspect. To the other swarm of blue clothed officers that arrived on the scene; Donnie was a murderer. The same killer who had taunted them for months, striking at random all over the city and eluding New York's finest.

"He looks so young…" muttered the cop who slapped the cold steel of the handcuffs around Donnie's wrists as Eames read Donnie his rights

He didn't try to fight or argue. He just watched Detective. Goren and knew that his destiny lied with him. He just _knew_.

"That's what New York will do to you. Deal with enough crap in New York and it can turn anyone into a killer" muttered another cop

What that cop had said would remain in Donnie's mind for a very long time and ring true one day, although he didn't know it just yet.

* * *

Donnie kept himself quiet and inconspicuous throughout the entire journey to the police station, there had been press but his face had been obscured by the swift wave of Dt. Goren's black coat. He hadn't spoken, even when he'd reached the Major Case department's interrogation room, but his fear had grown like a bubbling pot, threatening to boil over and explode. He was terrified, he had no clues as to where he was and where he was going or what would happen to him or even why he felt he _had _to stick with Bobby Goren. 

Closing his eyes as another police officer shot questions at him he pictured Gretchen, lying lifeless and pure in his arms. He wanted to cry and curl up in a ball but he wouldn't give in to his fear, he kept a lid on it and stared up at the police officer, his piercing blue eyes unnerving and yet Bobby could not look away. There was something off about theboy...

"I'm detective Eames…this is my partner detective-"

"Goren. Robert Goren" said Donnie suddenly

Eames smirked dryly "Oh look, another one of your fans"

Bobby acknowledged her comment but said nothing, he kept his equally incisive gaze on Donnie. Finally he spoke; "H-have we met before?"

Donnie shook his head slowly then paused mid-action "Maybe in a past life"

"He speaks" muttered Eames, Donnie shot her a quick glance and he realised in her silence she'd already noted down a few things about him. He didn't care what she thought, he just wanted to leave and go home, but he had to find out why he felt so tied towards the tall detective.

"Maybe? I look like someone you…know…don't I?" said Bobby, he sat down on the chair opposite Donnie, his tone was not unkind

"I just want to leave. Tell me when I can leave"

Eames sighed and leant against the two-way mirror "You can't. Not unless you start talking and explain what you were doing in the park. Things don't look so good for you. Found at the crime scene, fitting the description of the killer…"

Donnie stared at her "I like this game. It's universal, I can recognise it"

"What game?" asked Bobby quietly

"Good cop, bad cop. Everyone knows it…or something like it. No matter where you're from" replied Donnie, his sarcasm was slipping out. It happened whenever he was stressed or uncomfortable.

"You're not from around here are you?"

Donnie knew where Bobby was going with the question and he answered it the only way he knew how "A tangent universe"

"A tangent universe?" said Alex, she wore her disbelief on her sleeve

"A parallel world. Is that…where your from Donnie? Can I call you Donnie?" continued Bobby as if Alex hadn't spoken

Donnie looked at him carefully "Yes"

Bobby guessed he was affirming both questions "How did you end up here?"

Donnie shrugged and lowered his head.

"Do you know what you were doing in the park?"

Donnie didn't answer. In fact he refused to answer any further questions throughout the entire interrogation. His court appointed lawyer explained what charges he was facing but she may as well have been reading lines from a script, she knew little about what she was doing and was more interested in the profile the case would gave her.

* * *

He was put in a holding cell for the rest of the day and slowly his fear evolved into a tenseness that travelled all over his body and caused him to curl up into a ball his muscles knotted and taut as he felt his stress lock around him in a vice grip. 

"Are you hungry?"

The words came out from over his shoulder, he recognised the voice as belonging to the statuesque detective. He didn't turn around.

"You know, I don't know. I feel like I _should_ know you" said Bobby more to himself than anyone else. Donnie heard the tray of what he assumed was food clatter down on the floor outside his cell.

"Why is that?" said Donnie with lazy calm

"The way you looked at me...it was familiar. I have a good...a good memory for things like this and I _know _we haven't met but..." he trailed off, not normally one lost for words

"Don't worry you're not going crazy"

Bobby chuckled but it was more of an expelling of air, devoid of the humour that comes with laughter.

"You won't end up like your mother" said Donnie even as he did, he knew he'd said something startling. He uncurled from his fetal position and twisted his neck to look at Bobby who had gone pale

"How did you find out about my mother?" his voice was harder and Donnie saw the man close himself off, become unreadable and ambiguous.

"The usual way" said Donnie feigning indifference

Bobby looked unsurprised "The internet. Anything you want at the click of a button"

Donnie's mind was still in 1988 and this advancement in the internet intrigued him but he didn't really care about finding out about something he was sure he'd never get to experience in whatever time he was in. He yawned and turned fully around to face Bobby, he yawned and watched Bobby with curiosity.

"You should eat something. You'll have a long day tomorrow" said Bobby flatly and walked away

Donnie exhaled and rubbed his eyes, he was nowhere nearer to his goal. Whatever that was. But he was certain he was on the right path.


	6. Artifact & Living

"Who are you talking to?"

Donnie looked up, the petite female detective; Alex Eames was watching him with her usual poorly disguised cynicism. He had been talking in his sleep again.

He sighed and didn't answer instead sitting up and squinting his eyes. For all intents and purposes she might as well not have said anything.

"Look, your lawyer will be here. She'll explain it all to you, but the long and short of it is...you're free to go"

Donnie sat up straighter, startled, his hair in conflicting directions. "What?"

"You failed to mention Donnie that you've been a patient at the Binghamton psychiatric facility, therefore, you have a solid alibi and several witnesses place you at the subway when the crime was being committed. You got lucky" she explained calmly

A uniformed detective walked over and unlocked Donnie's cell.

"Your lawyer and Dr. Hammerstein from the facility are outside waiting for you" she said finally and he followed her out, bewildered. If he was supposed to contact Robert Goren then why was Donnie now leaving? He felt himself fall back to square one and that fear of the unknown that constantly plagued him, curled fast around his chest and didn't let go.

_Why me_? He thought, angry and weary.

As Donnie left he passed Bobby's desk, the tall man was hunched over it, his body language was tense as he talked urgently into a phone.

Donnie heard the word 'mother' then Bobby slammed the phone shut and looked up at Donnie as if he'd always known he was standing there.

Bobby stared at him._ The kid creeped him out._

"Wave goodbye to your fan" muttered Eames to her partner

Bobby looked now at her and said flatly; "So the killer is still loose"

Donnie was hurried along by the uniformed officer and lead to a crude waiting area, where there were a few uncomfortable brown chairs and a water cooler in a hallway near the main exit of the One Police Plaza.

He found; as Eames had said,his lawyer waiting for him with a grey suited man he assumed to be Doctor. Taxier.

* * *

The way the doctor spoke to Donnie was a very familiar way, he worked at Binghamton apparently but Donnie had never seen him before in his life and could only vaguely remember his lawyer.

_Your losing it kid_ said a voice in his subconscious that was neither his nor Frank's.

He suspected the voice was right.

"...once all these aspects are considered we will attempt to integrate you back into society, we feel that you are suffering from a nervous breakdown and you are simply struggling to return to normal life..."

Donnie listened to the doctor on and off as he was lead out of One Police Plaza and into the doctor's car, his lawyer talked too but he didn't bother listening to her. His interest was only peaked at the idea that if he passed his evaluation, he could be out of Binghamton in a few mere weeks.

"You don't _have_ weeks" said Frank

Donnie jumped startled, he looked around the car to see if anyone else had noticed, but Dr. Taxier who was sat opposite Donnie and unnervingly right next to Frank continued talking as did the lawyer.

Donnie didn't answer, he couldn't let Frank's presence be known this time.

"You _know _what to do. You've done it before you can do it again" said Frank, his tone was pointed but this was hard to tell with his distorted sounding voice

"I'm not the Frank you know. I'm the Frank your familiar with, the only one you will bear to remember." he said his tone now flat

Donnie sighed, he wondered why this was the most Frank had ever said to him in one go and yet it was also the most confusing.

"The sky will fall again"

Before he could even blink Frank began melting and disappearing before his eyes. He looked up again and the doctor was still talking. He sighed and studied the view outside.

He'd decided to give up. Pure and simple.

Donnie was put back in his ward, he sat down on the bed and took his pills like a good boy. He fell asleep soon after. Life was so much easier when he ignored the facts, when he let himself drown.

* * *

He found himself lost in a dream world again, screaming and struggling to swim under water as thick as mud, there were faces bobbing around on the water, smiling at him, they kept smiling. He recognised them as patients from the hospital.

He tried counting again, to stop himself from panicking.

_One..._

It was too late, he was terrified.

_Two..._

Suddenly there was no water and he was dry as a bone, he found himself in an office, he saw money papered all over the walls, they began to throb violently until he felt himself being sick.

His breathing intensified, his body spasmed as he slept, dreaming of a bed of pills black and glossy like tar, sinking and rising under him.

_ThreeFourFiveSix..._

He stumbled and tried to then began to fall right through the bed. Colours blew up and faded before him, then he saw himself staring at Dr. Taxier at the end of a yellow brick road.

"_Follow the yellow brick road"_

He turned around, Frank was singing.

_Seven_

_Eight_

_Nine_

Then suddenly he knew his way out.

_Ten_

* * *

"Donald, this certainly is an unusual. You wanted to have a word with me?" smiled the doctor. His glasses glinting under the poor light above

"I want to leave. _Today_" said Donnie without a trace of fear and a touch of contempt

The doctor smiled blandly "I'm afraid that won't be possible, with some review and assessment you may be able to leave the facility but you would still be under observation and that would take..."

"Shut up" snapped Donnie impatiently "I want to leave or I will tell them everything"

The doctor looked at Donnie sharply, the boy was clearly unstable. He returned to his cool mask of emotionless smiling and nodded in a pacifying way.

"And what would that be Donald?"

"That you've been selling medication on the black market, that you have been bribed to keep patients in here longer than they should be."

The doctor was clearly shaken, but he wasn't about to let this crack pot kid ruin what had become a very lucrative business.

"Don't you think its time for you to return to your ward, I'll just buzz your nurse..." he said, only just keeping control of his temper

"_No_" said Donnie calmly he stared at the doctor, his blue eyes unnervingly focused "You are going to let me go, and then you are going to resign"

Doctor Taxier was not impressed but he was furious "Why exactly would I do that, little boy? Go back to your ward, take your medication and stay the hell out of my way. You have _no _idea who you are playing with" he hissed

Donnie wasn't perturbed "Its time for you to go doctor, all I have to do is call the police. All the evidence is right here" he said looking around the office

The doctor swore furiously then shot up "Get _out, _get the hell out!" he screamed

Donnie looked at him blankly "You don't have much time" he said, then wondered why he'd said it. He got to his feet then calmly left the office. It was almost over.

Doctor Taxier sat down in his office and out loud he reprimanded himself. He had to stay calm, and think. He didn't care whether or not the Darko boy was just rambling. He knew too much. He was trouble. The doctor thought and thought. A teenage boy, with no family, no background, just a name, just another face.

There was no time to sit down and think, the doctor did _not _like loose ends. He walked over to the medicine cabinet in his office, his grey eyes sparkled.

He knew what he was going to do.

Doctor Arthur Taxier was going to kill Donnie Darko.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, that one took me a while. I had to force myself to sit down and churn it out, and although I don't love it...I think thats just the obsessive part of me wanting everything to be the next Poe...ahem, moving on. I was very touched by the reviews from Delightfully Wicked AND Dybdahl, those were really amazing. I hope I live up to your standards with this chapter.

**Donnie Darko Reference**: Arthur Taxier played Dr. Fisher in the film and the title is from the OST.


	7. Burn It To The Ground

When Donnie awoke in the early morning. He was rather bemused by the fact that he couldn't see.  
He was certain he wasn't blind, but he was still worried by this sudden lack of sight.  
He rubbed his eyes haphazardly and pulled away a fifty dollar note.  
Confused he sat up in his bed and ran a disconcerting blue eyed gaze around his ward. On the writing desk by the door was a thick roll of rope and three large pots of glue.  
Getting up he walked over to it and examined the pots.  
They were all empty.  
He wondered if Frank had anything to do with this.  
With a sigh, he peered out of the small window in his door and found himself surprised, for the second time that morning; to find it was open.  
He soon noticed why.  
Someone...most likely him...had smashed the door keyhole to pieces.  
Yawning, he found the strangeness of the situation oddly comforting.  
The trances, the not knowing where'd been or what damage he'd wrecked.  
It reminded him of home.  
He wandered down the empty halls, peering into rooms here and there. As he walked he past Dr. Taxier's office, by chance his eyes fell into the room and what greeted him was such a ridiculous sight that he simply had to stop and take a look. He pushed the open door further and some money fluttered down from the ceiling.  
The entire room was wallpapered with money, wall to wall notes. In the center of it all was Dr. Taxier, bound into his revolving chair, a wad of paper stuffed in the center of his chest. Scrawled in familiar red handwriting were the words; 'READ ME'  
The Dr glowered at Donnie, lost between feelings of fury, humiliation and...fear?  
Donnie couldn't be sure.  
What he was certain of was that, this entire bizarre scene was his doing. He slowly backed out of the room, as he did, a group of people pushed past him and wandered into the office.  
He watched from the doorway, quiet, unseen, unnoticed.

"Dr. Taxier! What is going on? The police are here...they said something about an anonymous tip...what happened to you?" exclaimed one of the nurses

Dr. Taxier, gagged with black tape; was unable to reply. Instead he made angry muffled sounds and tried to shrink away from one of the orderlies who had reached for the wad of paper.

"What is this? Who wants us to read this?" said the orderly as another stripped the black tape from the Dr's mouth.

Donnie heard the painful rip of tape and the doctor's furious growl as he tried to stop the crowd reading the stapled bunch of paper.  
He decided to leave, but not after he saw the growing looks of horror and realisation on the group of nurses and orderlies faces as they read what the papers had to say.  
Donnie made his way to the canteen and helped himself to some food. He'd be leaving soon and he didn't want to leave on an empty stomach.

* * *

Bobby ran his fingers along the map, pausing on each red dot, scribbled on the page. A red light at each crime scene. The mystery killer or the 'Hobo Hacker' as the press had so fondly nicknamed him; was still at large. The last so called 'lead' that he or Eames had, was that Darko kid.  
And that itself had turned out to be a simple coincidence.  
Still, he was glad to be shot of him.  
He didn't want to admit to any fears, any weaknesses. Certainly not any superstitious ramblings...but there was something ominous about Donald Darko.  
Bobby rubbed his eyes and drew back into his full height, he felt his back creak. The department was largely empty, the stragglers from the graveyard shift were just leaving, and the early risers were just arriving. He was neither. He'd spent the entire night there, his brain had gone into meltdown and he'd been unable to think straight.  
He'd fallen asleep and dreamt of dancing, laughing girls. One with flame red hair and a knife. She'd winked at him and pointed at a tunnel, gleaming with bright white light.  
Then the faces had changed and all he could see was red. Red as blood, red as the girl's hair. She melted into the colour but her knife stayed.  
This dream, although disturbing was not a stranger to his sleep. It came to him often, and often in thedream, a man with dark hair would stand in front of the glowing, startlingly bright tunnel; shaking his head. It was a warning.He would look at Bobby but his face remained a mystery. A blurring of words and noise. Yet, there was something familiar about it all.  
Deja vu.

* * *

When Bobby awoke he had wished he was a drinker, perhaps that would explain his dream. Give him a reason to dismiss it as a hangover's nightmare.  
Bobby began to shake his head.  
He was losing it.  
He needed to get some sleep.  
How could one person bemuse him so?  
There were worse things to be scared of. Not nightmares after a lack of sleep and proper food. Those were for the ordinary man on the street. Bobby Goren was not that man.

"Why do you keep shaking your head?"

He jerked around and found Eames studying him, a tray of Starbucks coffee's in her hand.

"Nothing" said Bobby and she didn't push it.

He was...eccentric, to say the very least, but she understood him. She let him get on with whatever thought he was running with and sooner or later he would reveal his ideas to her. It didn't do to push him.

"Looks like you spent another night in Chez One Police Plaza" she smirked and set the coffee's down on a table

Bobby glanced at the coffees. "Thank you, but you know how I feel about Starbucks"

She rolled her eyes as she took a swig from a coffee "Oh yeah, big disgusting multinational corporation, etc"

He chuckled faintly but it was half hearted "Sorry"

Eames shook her head "Its okay. I'll hand them out around the office. In the meantime, I think you should take a look at this..."

She retrieved the day's newspaper from her black bag and held it in front of him. A headline screamed out at him about the arrest of a crooked doctor at a psychiatric facility. He scanned it and shook his head.

"I don't get it"

Eames sighed "Look closer"

Bobby read the paper and sighed "So, our friend Donald has been released. He was one of the...many that were involuntarily and falsely placed there. He looked over the paper at her "Why are you showing me this"

Eames smiled "Well, its to soften the blow, that and the coffee...because guess who's waiting for you outside?"

Bobby's eyes narrowed and she nodded in confirmation.

"Your new fan wants to see you. He says he needs to talk to you"

Bobby raised his eyebrows, and walked towards the door. He peered around it, Donnie was sat on a leather chair staring into space.He did not look dazed or confused but focused andfaintly smiling,rather as if there was something fascinating.  
Bobby inwardly shuddered.  
He was still unnerved by Donnie.  
That didn't mean he was about to show it.

* * *

**A/N:** _THANK YOU_ Dybdhal and Delightfully Wicked. Your reviews are keeping me going, especially Mr. Wicked. Although I did get paranoid about some of the problems you pointed out, and as I am prone to shelving stories due to one bad chapter, I almost did that with this! But, if I ask for constructive critisicim then I'm going to have to learn how to use it, and not panic about my writing. Please continue to comment, it really does help and I hope you see that I took the advice on board. I think I should watch the movie again, just so I get the 'feel' of the film back. Again, thanks for the reviews, _both_ of you. The title is homage to the scene where Donnie commits a similar 'random' act of destruction. 


End file.
